Realm of the Grown Ups
by Lora Darcy
Summary: Lord of the Flies: the lost manuscript. A previously unconvered extra chapter to the book. Are the adult rescuers any different from the boys? Please R & R!


Disclaimer: Just a little piece I wrote a few years ago, but never posted anywhere.  Based on William Golding's Lord of the Flies.  I am not attempting to claim any of his characters as my own.  No copyright infringement intended.

**Lord of the Flies****: The Lost Manuscript**

The Realm of Grown-Ups 

            "Is this everyone on the island?" an elderly man asked, walking across the deck of the ship.  

            "Yes captain!" an officer replied, from his spot in a sea of sobbing children. "It appears that way.  We are just waiting for the return of Rupert and Walsh, sir."

            "Very well," the captain of the war-vessel replied, staring at the longhaired children.  Their faces were covered in some sort of paint, paint that was now streaked from tears.  In the center, however, was a child who was different.  This child had fair hair, and muddy cheeks that were lacking the paint of the others.  "Who's he?"  The Captain questioned, noticing the unique child.

            "Says he's their leader, Captain Murdoch, sir!"

            "The leader, eh?" said Captain Murdoch.  "Bring him to me!  I'd like to speak to him while we wait for our remaining crew to return."

            The officer walked over to the crying child and gently tapped him on the shoulder. 

Ralph looked up, wiping tears from his mud-stained face. He also knew that they would ask him many questions.  And he knew that these questions would be ones he did not know how to answer.  Slowly, Ralph straightened himself and walked towards the captain.

"You wanted to talk with me?" Ralph questioned, his eyes not focusing on the aged man.  Instead, they were looking behind him, to the painted face of Jack.

"Yes, I need you to explain…" Murdoch trailed off as he saw Walsh and Rupert hurry onto the ship, worried expressions evident on their faces.

"Sir, we need to speak with you!" Rupert explained.  Captain Murdoch nodded, and Rupert began to continue.  "We were having a thorough exploration of the island, when we first discovered an eroding pig's head embedded on a stick.  That was not all, sir.  While walking along the beach we discovered what appeared to be the remains of a human boy.  He appeared to have washed up on shore.  Walsh and I were unable to determine how long ago the body died."

At the mention of Simon's death, Ralph's eyes began to swell with tears. "It was murder!" he muttered softly, under his breath.  His words went unnoticed by all, except Jack, seated next to Roger, behind Captain Murdoch.

"We shall have to return to England immediately," Murdoch stated.  "Record our position in the log book and load the body onboard.  Inform the crew to prepare to head through enemy territory."

"Yes sir," Walsh and Rupert said, simultaneously and each man ran to carry out the captain's orders.

*******************

The body was stored in the ship's hull and Captain Murdoch began to head the vessel, Conqueror, towards London, England. All of the children had been moved off of the ship's deck.  The Conqueror was at full speed and prepared for the possibility of attack by enemy ships. 

Captain Murdoch was in his room, dressing for battle.  Murdoch admired his uniform in a mirror and as he placed his cap on his head he was no longer John Murdoch, from Liverpool, England.  He was purely a soldier, with impulses only to fight: to fight and kill.

Murdoch made his way up to the deck where the rest of the crew was already waiting.  They were each dressed for battle, all individuality lost to the uniforms.

"Captain!" shouted one of the men. "A ship, port side!  Definitely not one of ours…"

Before the Captain could respond, the Conqueror was under attack.  Under the deck, the faces of the children anxiously watched the war game through the windows.  They hoped their ship would win.

Each ship exchanged fire.  The men began to act on impulse, firing at the enemy. The bullets tore through the metal and the men cheered at each success.  Bombs were thrown with animal instincts, and after a long while a bomb landed on the Conqueror.  With an anguished shriek, the ship caught on fire.  Each man fired his last shot, and threw his last bomb. 

            Below, the boys nervously cried as they released that adults could not save themselves. Jack and Roger were no different from the navy officers.  Nothing was innocent; nothing was saved from the darkness of man's heart…


End file.
